My Love
by oddball15
Summary: Kartik's POV from Someone Who Can Love Me. Kartik goes for an evening stroll and finds Gemma alone in the woods. How will they react to each other? Why is Gemma there? Please read and review.


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**This story goes along with Someone Who Can Love Me. I needed more to write so thought this would be a fun thing to do. I've always wondered what goes on in Kartik's head and now I can make it up for myself... This is my first time writing in someone else's POV in the same scene, so I hope it turned out alright... Enjoy!**

**Discalimer: These character's belong to brilliant Ms. Libba Bray.**

I toss and turn in the tent

I toss and turn in the tent. I can't sleep. My mind and body are restless. Her beautiful face keeps making her way into my thoughts and I cannot calm down. Something is wrong with me.

On nights when I am unable to rest I often take walks in the woods with the light of the moon to guide me. The soft glow sooths me somehow and is likely to put my mind at ease. I decide that this is what I shall do. I pull on my boots and head quietly out of the still, sleeping camp, just like I have numerous times before.

I bury my hands in my pockets and stroll along, weaving through the familiar trees and bushes that I've grown to know and love.

Soon I hear heavy breathing…… and sniffling……….someone is out here in the woods, crying. Who would be here in the woods after midnight……..crying?

As I get nearer to the sound the sobs become more defined. It sounds like someone is heartbroken. These sobs are pure sadness. The sadness makes me want to cry out, too.

I peak through the trees, and sure enough, there is a girl, her knees to her chest and her face in her hands. But I could recognize that beautiful mess of red hair anywhere.

"Gemma?"

Her sobs slow and she lifts her face to see me, recognition showing in her grief-stricken eyes.

And it is Gemma.

My Gemma.

"Yes." She sputters. She looks so sad, and it's all I can do not to rush to her and kiss all the sadness away from her. I look at her face again and I'm afraid someone has hurt her.

"Are you all right?"

I have to comfort her somehow, so I kneel down to her and hold her face in my hands.

"I-I'm," she breathes in deeply and shudders, "fine."

This is painful for me to watch. I don't want her to be sad. I sit myself next to her against the tree trunk and pull her close to me. She cries into my chest, and despite the cold of the night, I feel oddly warm with her curled up against me.

I cannot resist, and as she leans against me, I stroke her hair and put my lips to her head. I want her to be happy again, but I want to hold her close to me forever. I never want to let go of something so precious.

As we sit, I wonder what happened to her. I wonder what has hurt her so badly, and I need to know. Her tears have slowed and her cries have become softer, and I hope she will understand my curiousness. I slip a finger under her chin and tilt her head up so I can see her eyes. She is still lovely with a face wet and red from crying. She blinks and more tears escape from her eyes. I wipe them away and wish that I could wipe away her sadness with them.

I lean in, kiss the tip of her nose and ask, "Gemma, what happened?"

I see more tears in her eyes and regret that I asked. I should've kept quiet.

"Father." She answers quietly, but the pain in her eyes speaks loud.

"Is he…..?" But I can't finish. I remember when it happened to Amar. That word was my worst enemy.

"Yes. He is." She answers solemnly.

I feel as though I can't breathe. This is such a cruel world. How could it take away both the parents of such a wonderful girl and cause her such pain? I know how she cherished her father. I think of Amar, and of the hurt I felt after what happened. It's not easy, not one bit.

"Oh. Oh, Gemma. I'm so sorry." And I am. I'm truly sorry that she must go through this. Again.

"Thank you." She whispers, and I know she means it. She puts her hand to my cheek, and a tingle rushes through my body and I am compelled to kiss her forehead, her perfect nose, and her warm lips.

Her eyelids begin to droop and I know she must be tired.

"Sleep," I whisper to her and kiss her damp cheek.

"Thank you…" she mumbles, and she is asleep.

I hold her close to me and stroke her face as she sleeps, a sweet angel in my arms. I see the first hint of pink on the horizon and stand up, cradling my lovely Gemma to my chest. I creep to the wall where her room is, and climb carefully through her window, sure not to let anything touch her.

I hug her close once more and lay her in her bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin. I lean in close to her and kiss her lips gently, and hurry back out the window.

When I enter the forest, I feel that I should go back to the tree, not the camp. When I arrive, I am not sure what I feel. I am heartbroken for her, but I am consumed with an odd joy from the time spent with her- the feel of her in my arms, and her lips on mine. I ponder it for a while and finally understand.

I love her.

I've loved her for some time, but I've never actually acknowledged it.

I should tell her.

I wait by our tree while the sun climbs higher in the sky, but the wait does not bother me, because now I know what I feel, and I am unable to stop thinking about it.

Finally, I spot her walking toward me, and the feeling I now know as love washes over me. I hurry to her and take her hands. She squeezes them and more love pulses through my veins.

"I'm sorry." She says and looks at her feet. Sorry? For being in need of comfort?

I put a hand on her cheek. "Gemma. There is absolutely no need to apologize." I can feel a slight smile spreading across my lips, and a look of confusion crosses her face.

"But- why did you do that? Why did you stay with me?"

"Gemma." I breathe deeply and brush my finger across her face. She looks into my eyes, waiting for me to say more. I know what I'm about to say means a lot, and if I mess it up, it will be a disaster, but I am not afraid in the slightest.

"I love you, Gemma."

Her forehead wrinkles in confusion, but her lips turn up slightly at the corners.

"You-?" But she can't finish, because her face is in my hands, and I kiss her quick.

"Yes. Miss Gemma Doyle, I love you. I love you more than my own life. I can't concentrate when you aren't with me. I want you. I need you. I love you." And these words are the truest I've ever spoken in my life.

Gemma begins to smile and I feel the smile on my face widen. She pulls herself up to my lips kisses me. This kiss is amazing. This is a new kind of kiss. A kiss of complete love, and I never want to take my lips from hers. Finally, I must pull myself away and catch my breath. Gemma smiles the brightest smile I've ever seen her wear, and I feel I am the luckiest man alive. I draw her into a hug and kiss her again on the top of her head. I feel her breath on my chest as she whispers, "I love you." I smile even wider and I know that I _am _the happiest and luckiest man alive. I hold on to her forever, and I fall deeper in love with each second she is near.

Gemma.

My Gemma.

My love.

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**Again, it was passed my bedtime when I wrote it, so I hope it makes sense. Please give me some constructive critisism so I can improve on future stories. Thanks! :-)**


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